Lily's Box
by Catmint
Summary: Now AU. Harry discovers a box that belonged to his mother, and with it discovers a secret friendship between Lily and Severus. Rated for graphic selfharm warning: may be a trigger and lots of Severusangst. PLease R&R!
1. Letters

Lily's Box

****

Disclaimer: Not mine, never were, never will be. All belong to JK Rowling (all praise the goddess of fantastic story-telling).

****

A/N: This is my first multi-chapter fic I'm posting, so I'm just hoping it uploads okay! Written pre-OotP, so is essentially an AU fic now. Can't quite recall how I got inspired for this particular one. Ah well. On with the story.

**************************************************************************************************

Chapter 1: Letters

"Are you going to open it?" demanded fifteen-year-old Hermione Granger impatiently.

Her best friend (one of them, anyway), Harry Potter, shrugged. "I don't know if I can."

"Sirius said there was a blood charm on it, remember?"

"Oh, I don't mean _physically_. I mean, I don't know if I'm ready _emotionally_."

"Oh. I get you." The two were sitting, cross-legged, on the floor of Hermione's bedroom. It was July twentieth, in the summer holidays between their fourth and fifth years. Harry was staying with Hermione this summer, and it was unlikely that either would be seeing their other best friend, Ron Weasley, as his family were in Romania visiting Ron's brother Charlie. They were then going to Egypt to visit another of Ron's brothers, Bill, who worked out there, in August.

The item the two were looking at was a strange box, painted red, gold and green. It had belonged to Harry's mother Lily before she had been murdered. The box had been retrieved from the rubble of the house, presumably by Albus Dumbledore, and placed in the Potters' vault in Gringott's, the wizard bank. Nobody knew what it contained.

"Okay," Harry said firmly. "Here goes." He undid the padlock and bolts before opening the two clasps. Lily Evans had been Muggle-born, and Hermione believed that her parents had given it to her, though Lily had probably magically expanded it.

Harry lifted the lid. "It – it's her personal things," he whispered in awe.

"There's a letter for you," Hermione noticed. Harry picked it up and, hands shaking, opened it, reading it aloud.

"_Harry dearest,_

If you are reading this, then Voldemort has come for us and our Secret Keeper has betrayed us. I don't know why, but I had this gut feeling that switching from Sirius would be fatal. Peter's Animagus form is not a rat for nothing.

Or perhaps I am being paranoid. I want you to have this box. It contains everything that means something to me, and hopefully will to you, too.

This box is protected by a blood charm. Only those whose blood (only a few drops; don't worry!) has been given willingly, all within 24 hours of the first to give, can open it. I have no blood from Peter as he was absent at the time (suspicious?), but I do from me, you, James, Sirius, Albus, Remus and Severus.

I love you, Harry.

Your mother, Lily."

"_Severus_?!" Hermione squawked. "As in Severus Snape, Potions teacher who loathes you with every cell in his body?"

"How many people do _you_ know called Severus?" Harry retorted.

"But why…?"

Harry reached into the box and pulled out a smaller box labelled 'Letters from Severus', along with a green leather diary. He opened the oldest-looking letter. It was on pale green parchment and the sender's address was written as 'S. Snape, first-year boys' dormitory, Slytherin House, Hogwarts'.

"Er – should you be reading that?" Hermione asked nervously. "There might be privacy charms or something on it. This _is_ Snape we're talking about, after all."

Harry shrugged. "I don't care."

"So…what does it say?"

"_Dear Miss Evans,_

Thankyou for your willingness to keep company with me throughout the lengthy journey on the school train. It was enjoyable conversing with a person of intelligence (Avery cannot be classed as anything other than a 'thug').

So you are a Gryffindor and I a Slytherin. I am sure you have been informed of the divide between our two houses. It may prove impossible for our alliance to be anything other than a secret one, especially as you are Muggle-born. I request that you do not reveal your connection with me to those such as James Potter and Sirius Black. I genuinely fear for you, should they discover me. Of course, I would understand completely, should you wish to terminate our alliance.

Yours sincerely,

Severus Snape "

"An _eleven-year-old_ wrote that?" Hermione asked incredulously. "It's so – so –"

"Formal. But it would suit Snape," added Harry thoughtfully. "So my mother was friends with Snape…"

"Let's look at a more recent one," Hermione suggested, extracting one and making sure she knew where it had come from by using a scrap of paper to mark the spot. Harry took it and unfolded it, eyes widening.

"Is – is that _blood_?" Hermione breathed in morbid fascination.

"I don't know. Let's see. It's third year, by the date."

"_Lily,_

I'm sorry to owl you in the middle of the night (3.27am, to be precise), but I need to talk to you. I don't mean to dump all my problems on you, but you are the one light in my black world. I couldn't help tonight; I needed to do it. What Pettigrew did to me in Charms was just one thing too many. I had to get my blade out, Lily; I had to. It's keeping me alive, even if it's just for one more day. I suppose I keep going in the foolish hope that tomorrow might just be the day in which I can finally break free.

I know you'll want to see my arms, and ask the total. I have 20 new cuts on my right arm and 30 on my left. I'm running out of space on my left arm; scar tissue is so much more painful to cut through.

Please, Lily. I'm suffocating, drowning. I don't know how much more I can take.

Severus" 

"Bang goes formalities," Harry observed drily.

"Why would he feel as though he had to cut himself?" asked Hermione shakily. This was certainly not what she had been expecting. "Was his life really so awful?"

"I don't know, Herm. I think – I think there's a good reason for him being so jaded and bitter and cynical, though. I mean, what could push a person so far as to make them feel as though hurting themselves is the only thing that will make them feel better?"

"Something awful," Hermione replied quietly. "No wonder he is the way he is."

Harry shook his head slowly. "Makes him more than just the horrible Potions teacher."

"It sounds a bit like the Marauders have really got it in for him."

"Here's one from fourth year, Herm…"

"_Lily, _

Thankyou. You were my angel. Angels, though, cannot always save everyone. I am too broken.

Remember me. Please.

Severus" 

"It's a suicide note," Hermione whispered in horror.

"Is it the only one, though?"

"_Why_?"

Harry opened his mother's diary to the date corresponding with the letter, and began to read.

"_Oh God. Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse for him, my best friend tries to take his own life. Nott found him collapsed in the bathroom, wrists slit. Well, arms, really; hand to elbow along the vein. Madam Pomfrey's done the best she can, but he'll always have two thick white scars running the length of his forearms._

They've found out about the self-harming as well, of course. Severus is still unconscious, but he'll recover physically.

As for mentally…

I hate his parents. Hate, hate, HATE! How could anyone do what they have done to their only child? How? How? I don't understand. How can you beat a four-year-old almost to death? How can you tell him he's worthless, pathetic, a freak, a failure, evil, stupid, useless? How can you tell him that so often that before he's old enough to start Muggle primary school, he hates himself so much he wants to die? He was five when he first deliberately swallowed poison. His first suicide attempt was at five years old. Why has nobody done anything? If they were Muggles, Social Services would have investigated, taken him into Care and sent his parents to prison. His father started sexually abusing him when he was five, and first raped him when he was seven. I know I've said this before in this diary, but I need to repeat it, get it out of my system. His mother began forcing him to have sex with her, under Imperius, when he was nine.

It makes you sick.

Is it prejudice? His father is intimidating. He reminds me strongly of Lucius Malfoy, that arrogant seventh-year prefect. And he's a Slytherin; they do seem to be victimised. I want to torture Severus' parents until they die. Why? He had no childhood. Now he's so messed up it's a wonder he can breathe, let alone get the grades he does. He started self-harming when he was eight. Today included, he's attempted suicide five times, and he's not fifteen until February.

Please let him live. Please.

"I feel sick," Hermione whispered. "How could anyone _do_ such a thing? To their own child…It's unthinkable."

"What's unthinkable, sweetheart?" Mrs. Granger asked from the doorway, biscuit tin in hand.

"Oh, Mum!" Hermione flung herself on her mother, sobbing desperately.

"Hermione? What's wrong? Has something happened?"

"We – we've just found out – my mother's best friend…" Harry choked out.

"It's _horrible_! His parents…they – they _did_ things to him…"

"Sexual things," Harry expanded, shuddering.

"He tried to kill himself, Mum," Hermione whispered. "At least five times, but we still have twenty years to go yet."

"Six," Harry corrected. "My mother only had six more years left before she was murdered."

"Do you know if he's still alive?" asked Mrs. Granger. "Perhaps you could talk to him…"

"It's Professor Snape, Mum."

"Oh. You all hate him, don't you?"

"I used to, until about half an hour ago," Hermione confessed. "It's _horrible_, Mum! How can people _do _that sort of thing?"

Mrs. Granger sat down on her daughter's bed, Hermione beside her. "Some people are very sick and twisted, love," she said. "I can't understand it either, but people do that."

Harry looked up. "The next letter's dated a month later."

"What does it say?" Hermione asked tremulously.

"_Lily,_

So I'm still alive and due back in school. Nobody wants to help me. That Ravenclaw who attempted suicide last week is seeing a shrink. Trust me; she was in the bed next to me. You know why she did it? She split up with her boyfriend. How pathetic.

I'm obviously a lost cause. Why do they bother saving my life if I don't get any help? I asked Angela (Pomfrey's assistant). She looked at me in disgust and said, "You're a Slytherin, aren't you?" – as though that was the deciding factor.

I need to talk to you. Soon.

Severus " 

********************************

TBC

__


	2. The Yearbook, and Snape

Lily's Box

****

Disclaimer: Still not mine, still never were, still never will be.

****

A/N: Apologies if Severus seems a little OOC here; I figured that Harry and Hermione already know his darkest secrets, so it isn't as though he can hide anything from them, which is why he doesn't refuse to show them scenes from his schooldays. So don't bother flaming. I'll only use them to melt marshmallows.

I won't be updating this now until after July 27th, when I get back from Canada. Also, thankyou to Kittenmommy for reviewing Part 1!

***************************************************************************************************

Chapter 2: The Yearbook, and Snape

"There's a diary entry as well," Harry added. "Let's see… "

"_I didn't go to Hogsmeade with the others today. Alice and Daisy were confused, but I said I wanted to do homework. That got rid of them! I met Severus instead, and we spent the whole day down by the lake without anyone bothering us (it is late October, after all). He's so messed up. It's not fair. He was there before me, and when I got there, he was cutting himself. I've never seen him actually doing it before. It's awful. Harrowing. He was crying and then I saw him pulling the blade across his arm. He did it several times, and he was bleeding and he was putting the blade into the cuts to make them deeper and bleed more. He let me clean him up – although he wouldn't let me heal them. His arms are horrible. I don't know what's normal skin and what's scar tissue. I'm scared for him. Really scared. Especially as I know there's absolutely nothing I can do._

We talked. He's really depressed. It's like he hasn't got any hope left. He cried a lot, and I can hardly bear to look into his eyes. They're filled with pain, despair, fear, hopelessness, loneliness…I don't know how I can help him. I don't know if I can help him. I won't give up on him, though. I'm the only one who hasn't. I can't do anything more than hold him while he cries, listen when he talks, clean the blood away when he cuts, be there for him. It's so hard sometimes, though, because I don't know what to do. You can protect people from others, but how can you protect them from themselves? "

Harry looked up, blinking back unshed tears. "This is awful," he whispered.

"We can't tell Ron," Hermione declared. "It wouldn't be fair on Snape. You know Ron's not the most sensitive or tactful of people. _We_ can keep it between us, but if Ron finds out, it'll be all over the whole school."

Harry nodded his agreement. "No question of it."

"Can – can we come back to this?" Hermione asked hesitantly.

"Of course." Harry put the letters away in their smaller box before putting it and the diary back where they came from. He pulled out a small, square box and, opening it, gasped. "It's my mum's engagement ring!" he whispered in awe. It was a gold band, set with a ruby in the shape of a lily. He handed it to Hermione and Mrs. Granger.

"It's _beautiful_!" Hermione breathed.

"Notice the Gryffindor colours," Harry added, smiling.

"It's so well-crafted," Mrs. Granger marvelled, examining it closely. "The detail is amazing."

Harry unfolded the small piece of paper that had been in the box. "My dad's uncle was a jeweller – wizarding, of course," he informed them, reading from the paper. "Made it specially for my mum."

Hermione, now sitting on the floor again, peered into the box. "Is that a yearbook?"

Harry pulled the black leather book out. It had the Hogwarts crest in the centre, with a House crest in each corner. '_Class of 1978'_ was underneath the school crest. "I'd say so," he replied. "There are different sections for each House. There's also a whole-year photo at the front, before the House pages."

Hermione looked at the names written underneath the photo. "Dumbledore, Sprout, McGonagall, Binns … they're all still at Hogwarts … Oh look, there's Lupin, Sirius and your dad together."

"My mum's between my dad and Snape," Harry observed.

"Snape looks pretty unhappy."

Harry nodded. "There's Pettigrew, next to Lupin."

"He's looking a bit shifty," Hermione mused.

Harry flicked through the pages of teacher quizzes and quotes, memorable lessons, exploits, pranks, photos of the school and grounds, House and Quidditch standings for each year that year group had attended Hogwarts, until he reached a page with the Gryffindor crest on. "Student profiles," he read out.

"Let's see!"

"_Sirius Black: a motorbike obsessive and a Marauder. Lively, cheeky, bouncy, well-liked. Not well-known for lengthy relationships. Best subject – Transfiguration_."

"What a surprise, "Hermione remarked drily.

"_Lily Evans: Head Girl, and prefect from fifth year. Bit of a bookworm and a major brainbox. Hot-tempered, but universally loved, and sweet and cheerful. Best subject – Charms_. Sounds good." He turned the page. "_Remus Lupin: the most sensible of the Marauders. Placid, easygoing, perhaps slightly pessimistic. Prefect from fifth year. Quietly intelligent. Best subject – DADA_." He hesitated. "_Peter Pettigrew: fourth Marauder. Generally quiet. Loathes everything Slytherin-related. Best subject – (falling asleep in) History of Magic_. And finally, _James Potter: a Marauder. Owner of an Invisibility Cloak. Smart, outgoing, fun-loving. Quidditch obsessive and Gryffindor captain since sixth year. Best subject – Transfiguration_."

"Not much about Pettigrew," Mrs. Granger commented.

"He isn't really anything special," said Harry.

"What about Snape?" Hermione cut in.

Harry turned to the green-tinted pages. "_Severus Snape: prefect from fifth year. Highly intelligent and a major bookworm. Secretive, quiet, shrewd, sarcastic. A loner. Best subject – Potions_." He looked up. "That sounds like the Snape we know."

A buzzer sounded from downstairs, startling the three. Mrs. Granger jumped to her feet. "Tea'll be ready," she said. "Come on; you can carry on looking in that box later."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I'm writing to Snape," Harry announced to Hermione after tea, when they were alone in her room.

"Are you _mad_?! He'll _lynch_ you!"

"I want to know about my mother, Herm." He grabbed a pen from her desk and scribbled a note.

__

Professor Snape,

I found this box of my mother's (Sirius told me about it). I gather you were best friends with her. I hardly know anything about her, and I'd like to know more, if you could tell me.

By the way, I'm staying at Hermione Granger's.

Harry Potter 

He placed it in an envelope and then sent his owl, Hedwig, off to locate the professor. Hermione was shaking her head in disbelief. "I can't believe you did that."

"I had to," replied Harry. "I know about my dad from Sirius, but not my mum."

Hermione sighed in resignation. "It's your funeral."

Harry turned back to the box. There were a number of letters from James to Lily, and the two spent the next hour reading through them.

Hermione, thirsty, got up to go to the kitchen for a drink. She gasped as a tall, intimidating man suddenly appeared in front of her. "P-Professor Snape," she croaked.

"Indeed, it is I, Miss Granger," Snape replied in his quiet, silky voice. "I believe Mr. Potter sent me a letter."

"Er – yeah, I did," Harry confirmed.

"I have some time on my hands. Perhaps I could inform you of what you wish to know."

"Can – can I get you a drink or something?" Hermione inquired.

Snape shook his head. "I'm fine, thankyou, Miss Granger. Perhaps it would be wise to inform your parents of my arrival?"

Hermione nodded and scuttled off, returning moments later with a tray laden with the biscuit tin (savoury biscuits only, of course), a jug of water and three glasses. "Mum shoved it in my hands," she explained, setting the tray down on the floor and joining Harry and Snape already seated on the floor.

Harry promptly reached for a biscuit. "We read through some of the letters you sent my mum while you were at school."

Snape looked at him intently, making Harry shift uncomfortably. "Which ones? I seem to recall a lot of them being mainly anti-Divination waffle."

"Not these ones," Harry said. "We also found my mum's diary and matched up the dates with the letters."

"Which letters?"

"Your first one, one from third year, a – a suicide note from fourth year and the next one after that," Harry answered nervously.

"Oh." Snape's face was blank, his obsidian eyes guarded. "I see." He paused. "Before you ask, the scars _are_ still there. It's why I cannot abide short sleeves – along with the Dark Mark of which I am now deeply ashamed. I cannot possibly wear them." His gaze flicked to Harry's T-shirt and Hermione's strappy summer top. "Too many questions."

"Can – can we see?" Hermione asked hesitantly. "I mean, we already know the scars are there."

"Why would you want to? It's a hideous sight. Lily nearly fainted the first time she saw."

Hermione shrugged. "Call it morbid fascination."

Snape was silent, as though trying to decide whether or not to grant her request. Finally, he sighed and slowly unbuttoned the sleeves of his black shirt. "I won't take my shirt off, though. I can't expose my parents' work." He pushed the sleeves up to just past his elbows.

Harry and Hermione both had to steady themselves at the sight. Both of Snape's arms were horrifically mutilated; thick and thin, long and short, white scars criscrossed each other in a morbid mosaic. They also bore evidence of very recent activity – there were flaring pink and purple lines, scabbed-over, red lines, and several long red gashes, one of which was still bleeding slightly. Looking more closely, Harry could see it went right through the centre of the faint Dark Mark that was branded into the teacher's arm. The thick scars from his fourth-year suicide attempt were painfully prominent.

"How could you _do_ this?" Hermione breathed in shock.

"I was pushed too far," Snape replied, pulling his sleeves back down. "I can't expect you to even _begin_ to imagine how far I was pushed, or feeling what I was feeling. Eventually the self-hatred takes over. The whole world hates you and you can't cope."

"We know you were five when you first attempted suicide," said Hermione quietly.

"My father was usually too drunk to remember to keep his poisons out of reach of a nosy five-year-old. But believe me, I knew what they did. I wanted to die when I was five years old." He laughed bitterly. "How crazy does that sound?"

"Er –" said Hermione, at a loss for words for once.

"Lily's what we're here to talk about, not my mental state or my dark past," Snape said abruptly. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything," Harry answered.

"Could you perhaps give me a starting point?"

"What was she like with you? From that first day on the train."

Snape sighed heavily, focusing his gaze on the water jug. "I was on my own on the train. It was about half an hour into the journey and this girl – obviously a first-year like me – poked her head into the compartment. Some girl named Ivy had lost her cat and she was wondering if I'd seen it. I said I hadn't and she came in and sat down." He hesitated. "I could show you, if you like."

"How?" Hermione asked excitedly, leaning forward. Harry suppressed a smirk; typical Hermione, wanting to know everything.

Snape pulled out a long silver chain with dials on for the date, month and year. He placed the chain around the necks of all three of them and set the dial. "Take my hands, you two," he instructed. Raising his right hand (his wand hand), he tapped the dial twice with his wand.

**************************

TBC


	3. The Memory Dial

Lily's Box

****

Disclaimer: No, they're *still* not mine – except for Nettles. Don't sue. All my money went towards my visit to WHSmith at midnight on June 20th after MY FINAL EXAM!!!!!

****

A/N: Thanks to Kittenmommy and xoem for reviewing! Xoem – thanks for your comment. I didn't make things very clear at the start of Chapter 1, so I'll fill you in now. Basically, Harry is staying at Hermione's and he was there when he found the box. He didn't think he would be able to open it on his own and wanted Hermione there for moral support. The way I see it, he's close enough to both her and Ron to be open with them about something like this, and he'd rather do it with a friend. Hope that helps! (Maybe I'll do a prequel).

And yes, I'm back from Canada, which is as brilliant as always.

****

A/N 2: Burnley 4 Leeds Utd 2 (pre-season friendly).

****

A/N 3: I have made some adjustments (29/8/03), having realised that the Hogwarts Express leaves from King's Cross and therefore cannot possibly go through Watford Junction station, as it is on the West Coast mainline and King's Cross is on the East Coast mainline (trust me; I've travelled on enough intercity trains to know these things). 

*********************************************************************************************

Chapter 3: The Memory Dial

The sensation was like that of a Time-Turner, Harry thought as they landed with a _thud_ on the Hogwarts Express.

"You can let go now," Snape told them. "You can't be seen. It's not a Time-Turner; it's a Memory Dial, a bit like a Pensieve. You could say we're ghosts from the future. Memory Dials aren't regulated anywhere near as much as Time-Turners because you can't interfere with past events.

"I'm in this compartment. Lily should be along here in a minute – trust me; that's Newark Northgate station." He walked through the door like a spectre and stood by the window, the other two following suit.

A pale, thin, black-haired, black-clothed boy sat in the corner of the compartment, reading. 

The door flew open and a pretty, green-eyed, chestnut-haired girl entered. "Have you seen a tortoiseshell cat? Ivy's lost it already." Harry grinned inwardly; this girl's behaviour was uncannily like his own first meeting with Hermione.

"No," the young Severus snapped. He glanced up at the girl. "And who are _you_?" he sounded irritated.

"I'm Lily Evans; first-year. You?"

"Severus Snape, and ditto." He regarded her carefully. "Evans? I don't recognise that name. I suppose you're Muggle-born?" his voice dripped with derision.

"Yes. Why, does it matter? Some fourth-year idiot seemed to think so."

"Who?"

"_I_ don't know his name, do I? Tall, grey eyes, pale blond hair down to his shoulders, has a 'rich' air about him…"

"That's Lucius Malfoy," Severus immediately answered. "He doesn't like Muggle-borns. It wouldn't be wise to cross him."

"Can I join you?"

"If you must."

Lily sat down opposite him. "So, Severus. Tell me about yourself."

"There isn't much to tell." Severus tensed.

"There must be _something_," Lily persisted.

"I'm from a pureblood family. I'll be sorted into Slytherin. I'm smart. That's about it."

"Oh. Well, you know who I am. I'm Muggle-born. I was one of the smartest at my primary school. I have an older sister called Petunia who I can't stand. I love reading. I know nothing about Hogwarts. What's Slytherin?"

Severus put his book down. "There are four 'houses' at Hogwarts, which is basically where you'll live, make friends, you'll have meals and lessons with housemates, and you can earn or lose housepoints. The house with the most points at the end of the year wins the House Cup. The houses are Gryffindor, for the 'brave', Hufflepuff for the hard workers and the 'loyal', Ravenclaw for the brainboxes, and Slytherin for the 'cunning'. No doubt everyone will tell you all Slytherins are evil."

"What makes you so sure you'll be in Slytherin?" asked Lily.

"My entire family are ex-Slytherins. My father would kill me if I wasn't."

Snape leaned into Harry and Hermione. "Literally," he added. Both could easily believe it.

"Do you have any siblings?"

"No."

"What do your parents do?"

"My father works for the Ministry of Magic. My mother doesn't work." Severus' tone was short, clipped, abrupt.

"Oh. What's Quidditch? Only, I heard some boys talking…"

Severus launched into a lengthy explanation of the wizarding sport and Lily listened intently.

"Did you ever play?" Harry asked.

Snape shook his head. "Nobody ever wanted me on the team. I was more interested in studying, anyway. The captain, Cassius Nott, hated me. He'd _never _have let me on the team."

The conversation on the train turned to academic subjects. Snape draped the chain round Harry and Hermione's necks and took their hands after setting the date. "Second year." He tapped the dial and moments later they were in one of the library's side-rooms. Lily and Severus were seated at the table in school uniform, several books on the table. They were open, but pushed aside. Lily was facing Severus, one of her hands over his in a comforting gesture. Severus was resting his head in his free hand, the elbow of which was supported by the table.

"I'm sure it was just an accident," Lily was saying.

"Lily, there's no such thing as an _accident_ where Black's concerned," Severus growled. "It bloody well _hurt_! I'm sure _you_ don't want to be pushed down two flights of stairs." He bit his lip hard. "I've had enough of this, Lily."

"Enough of what? Severus, what are you talking about?" She sounded nervous, anxious.

Severus pulled away. "Everything." He pushed a book towards her. "Bye." He grabbed his bag and stormed off, almost running.

Lily scanned the pages and gasped in shock. "Severus!" She got up, abandoning her belongings, and raced after him. 

"Come on," Snape ordered, beckoning to the two as he took off after Lily. She paused outside the library before spotting a flash of black disappearing round a corner. "Oh no you don't," she muttered, running again, following the figure, running straight through the Fat Friar, Hufflepuff's ghost, without hesitating or shuddering.

Rounding another corner, she was in the dungeons. She skidded to an abrupt halt as s he saw a collapsed figure on the ground. Crouching down, she rolled him over. "Severus! What the hell have you done?" she whispered.

"Suicide attempt number four," Snape said quietly.

Lily briskly got him into the recovery position and tore down to the end of the corridor, where she banged on a door. "Professor Nettles!" she shouted desperately. "_PROFESSOR NETTLES_!"

The door flew open and a tall, grey-haired man in his late fifties stood there. "_Yes_, Evans?" he demanded icily. "Can I help?"

"Severus has collapsed. I-I think he's taken some kind of poison," Lily explained, gasping for breath.

"Any idea what?"

"Blutgefrieren," Lily said shakily. Nettles' face paled as he swore violently. "Stay here. I've got the antidote." He disappeared into his office while Lily shuffled her feet anxiously.

"What's that?" asked Hermione.

"Blutgefrieren? German, literally translates as 'blood freeze'. It freezes your blood. Kills you in the end. The antidote's 'Blutaufwärmen', or 'blood heat up'. Counteracts the freezing. If the body temperature drops too low, though, you've had it. Which was the _point_," Snape added, scowling.

Nettles re-emerged, a bottle in his hand. He raced over to Severus and pulled out a syringe. "Blutaufwärmen works far more efficiently and quickly if it's injected straight into the blood." He pushed Severus' sleeve up, extracted some of the antidote from the bottle and injected it into the exposed vein, ignoring the masses of cuts and scars on his arm.

"They both found out about the cutting in November of first year. Nettles was head of Slytherin and Potions teacher. And a bastard," Snape explained, "unless you were a Slytherin – or Lily."

Nettles easily picked Severus up and carried him to the hospital wing, Lily close behind, trailed by the other three. Severus' schoolbag was over her shoulder.

"What happened?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

"He – he tried to kill himself," whispered Lily.

"I've administered the antidote," Nettles informed Pomfrey briskly. "I'd prefer it if he was offered some _help_, though. He's better than my seventh-years when it comes to Potions."

"You _are _aware of his record?" Pomfrey inquired coolly. "Is there any point offering him help? He won't accept it."

Snape's face paled. He clearly hadn't known _that_ before. Lily wore a shocked expression "How can you _say_ that?" she demanded. She pushed past the two adults and sat down beside her unconscious friend. "Come on, Severus. Don't give up on me now!" she pleaded. "I need you. _Please_."

"She stayed all night. Pomfrey kept me in for a week. Lily kept me up to date with schoolwork. She put Potter off, to help me. You don't need to see anymore of this scene." He set the dial to third year and they landed in the courtyard of the castle. Severus was sitting on a low wall in a corner, book in his lap, watching Lily. It was obviously the weekend, as no uniforms were worn and half the students wore Muggle clothes, Lily included.

"Tennis is stupid!" a black-haired boy complained.

"No it isn't." Lily threw the tennis ball at him. "Is it, Remus?"

A brown-haired, amber-eyed boy shrugged. "I think it's okay. Remember Sirius is a Quidditch freak, though."

"Was that an insult?" demanded fourteen-year-old Sirius Black, tossing the ball at Remus Lupin.

"It was an _observation_." Lupin threw the ball back at Sirius. "Neither compliment nor insult."

"So just give tennis a try!" Lily ordered irritably.

Sirius sighed heavily. "Okay then." He picked up the racket and a game between him and Lily began.

"Lily won easily," Snape said. "Black refused to play after that. This is Lily at one of her happiest times. None of the Marauders noticed me on this particular day – always a good thing. This was the day that sparked a tennis craze in all the houses except Slytherin." He smiled sadly. "Your mother was really something else, Potter."

Sirius whacked the ball at Lupin, who threw it back hard, missing Sirius and hitting Pettigrew. "Oh, sorry, Peter!" he apologised hastily. "That was meant for Sirius!"

Pettigrew smiled and obligingly threw it at Sirius. None of the three from the future missed the brief scowl and the narrowing of eyes.

"Pettigrew doesn't look happy," remarked Hermione.

"One of the moments that sealed his fate, perhaps," Snape commented as they watched James Potter emerge and join forces with Sirius, while Lupin joined Lily, for an impromptu doubles game. Lily looked over to Pettigrew. "Can you umpire, Peter?" she requested. "You know the rules best."

Pettigrew nodded briefly, the scowl once again briefly crossing his face. None of the tennis players noticed.

"Fourth year," Snape announced, setting the dial and taking Harry and Hermione's hands.

They landed in the hospital wing. Severus was sitting up in bed, bandages covering both his arms from wrist to elbow. Lily was beside him, going over some schoolwork.

"She came every day I was in there, going over work and making sure I kept up," Snape explained. "She was brilliant."

"Was that when you slashed your wrists?" Hermione delicately asked, removing the Memory Dial chain from around her neck.

Snape nodded. "It took her three days to get me to sit up."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"That's what depression does to you, Potter. It can completely cripple a person. Lily was the only person I could trust; the only person I would tell anything to. She persuaded me to tell Madam Pomfrey about my home life, but nothing was done." He beckoned to Hermione. "Put the chain back on." He adjusted the dial and took their hands.

**********************

TBC


	4. James, and Conclusions

Lily's Box

****

Disclaimer: If you still think they're mine, see a shrink. They aren't (if they were, I'd have killed Pettigrew off in PoA and wouldn't have killed off *certain other people* - ahem). And since it was written before OotP came out, I haven't included references to that. So perhaps this could be massively improved (although I don't think Severus would choose to let Harry see THAT scene from the Pensieve, as it would be far too painful for him).

****

A/N 1: Thankyou to Kittenmommy for diligently reviewing every chapter so far and for being a really cool person as well –and especially for being a cat-lover ; ). Much appreciated. Also thanks to Sinical-Sarchasm for reviewing all 3 chapters! Also thanks to arimel for reviewing! As I said when I e-mailed you, I don't view this as my best work. I know it's inconsistent; my excuse is that I wrote it while I was doing my A-Level final exams – perhaps not advisable, but I needed to write *something*.

****

A/N 2: Well, here it is. The final installment of Lily's Box. And I'm using the Muggle grading system here; I can't be bothered to change it to suit OotP. Ditto for other details. Not now. It's too much hassle and I can be lazy like that. So there. Flames will be collected and used to toast marshmallows.

****

A/N 3: Check out our favourite hobbit (ie. Elijah Wood) in Forever Young (1992) – he's about 9 and VERY sweet. And he sings, 'You Are My Sunshine'.

*************************************************************************************************

Chapter 4: James, and Conclusions

They were still in the hospital wing, though it was clearly a different day, as Lily was now wearing jeans and a green sweater instead of school uniform, and no robes. Severus was clad all in black and was perched on the edge of his bed.

"Why the hell aren't you _doing_ anything?" Lily demanded, stamping her foot to emphasise her point.

"Miss Evans, calm down!" Madam Pomfrey snapped, putting her hands on Lily's shoulders in an attempt to calm her down.

"No I won't!" Lily retorted, angrily pulling away. Her eyes were burning, her face flushed. "My best friend is being abused at home and you refuse to do anything! If he was a Muggle he'd be taken into Care and his parents sent to prison!"

"He's _not_ a Muggle, though."

"You _have_ to do _some_thing!"

"His father is a very influential man."

"His father's a bloody alcoholic who rapes his own child!" Lily screamed. Severus flinched, and so did his future self.

"MISS EVANS! You're hysterical. Calm yourself or I'll be forced to give you a sedative."

"I WON'T CALM DOWN UNTIL YOU AGREE TO DO SOMETHING TO PROTECT HIM!"

"Forget it, Lily," Severus interrupted wearily. "She doesn't want to know. There's no point bothering any more. I'll manage."

"But Sever –"

"_Forget_ it." Severus stalked out of the room, ignoring Lily.

Lily glared one last time at Pomfrey. "I hope you can live with yourself, knowing you've completely and utterly destroyed someone!" she hissed furiously before storming out on the heels of her friend. She found Severus quickly and put her arms around him, drawing him into a hug. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Severus buried his face in her shoulder. "'S okay. You tried."

"Not hard enough. I have to make them see. I _have_ to! I'll come and rescue you myself if I have to!"

"I wouldn't; my father would Avada Kedavra you on the spot."

"He'd _what_?"

"Avada Kedavra. The Killing Curse. It's the last of the Unforgivables. Automatic life sentence in Azkaban for its use. If you're hit by it, you're dead immediately. No time to react."

"Why? Because I'm Muggle-born?"

Severus nodded, crying too hard to be able to speak now. Lily gently comforted him, holding him tightly.

"She doesn't give up," Hermione observed wryly.

"Never. You didn't want to get on her bad side. Lucius Malfoy got a slap from her in her second year. Never upset her again," Snape replied.

Hermione went pink, recalling a similar incident in her third year, when she had slapped Lucius' son, Draco, who was in the same year as her and Harry. Harry smiled, knowing what she was thinking. Neither could laugh, though; Severus was far too unhappy for that.

"Did – did anyone ever listen to her?" asked Hermione hesitantly.

"No. Never. My parents died a few days before the end of my final year." Snape's tone was abrupt, cold. "Lily tried her hardest. She fought as hard as she could, but the authorities weren't interested. 'Just that loner from Slytherin', according to Professor Berry – Arithmancy teacher before Vector," he explained upon seeing the two students' puzzled expressions. He smiled sadly.

"What about Dumbledore?" Harry asked.

Snape snorted derisively. "He's ex-Gryffindor, Potter. Much as I love and respect him _now_, he still didn't help me then. I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive him for that. At least Lily did her best. Gryffindors are indoctrinated with anti-Slytherin thoughts from Day One. I'm not expecting it to change. Lily was just an individual, and she wasn't open about our friendship – mainly because I didn't want her to be."

"The others are all in Hogsmeade, Severus," Lily said gently. "Shall we go down to the lake now?"

Severus nodded, pulling away and wiping his eyes. "Okay."

The trio watched Lily lead him away from the hospital wing and down to the lake.

"Fifth year was basically studying for the OWLs," Snape informed them tightly. Harry suspected he was hiding something from them, but if he didn't want to show them, it wasn't any of their business. "Sixth year?"

"Okay," Harry agreed. Moments later they were in the library. Both Severus and Lily looked considerably older. Severus looked thinner and paler than in fourth year and there was a white bandage around his left arm, which was partially exposed.

"Rosier's cauldron exploded the previous day in Potions," Snape explained. "He should be in the hospital wing for several more days, if my memory serves me correctly. I was next to him. That's how I got burned. Incompetent idiot."

Lily was explaining the Transfiguration work to Severus. "Do you get it?"

"Sort of. I don't get why McGonagall only gave me a B, though."

"You didn't explain this part of the process in enough detail," replied Lily, pointing to one of the paragraphs in his essay.

"That pretty much sums up sixth year," Snape said. "Work, work, work."

"What about seventh year?" Harry asked, suddenly feeling nervous when Snape tensed.

"Even more work. I didn't see her as much in our final year. Here's why." He set the dial…

It was Valentine's Day, 1978. Red and pink hearts adorned the corridors. Lily and Severus were in what the two students with Snape recognised as the Charms classroom.

"So what's so urgent, Lily?" Severus asked. He looked much like his contemporary self, the one Harry and Hermione knew, although there were a few less worry lines creasing his face.

Lily's face was glowing, her emerald eyes sparkling. "James asked me to marry him!" she exclaimed.

"I take it you accepted?" Severus' tone was cool and he didn't look at Lily. He also couldn't mask the bitterness, hurt and betrayal in his voice.

"Of course! I love him, Severus!"

"So you've forgotten that he is one of the boys who has made my life _ell*_ for the last seven years? That you've been standing me up and cancelling our study sessions for him? Or don't you care?"

"That's not fair!"

Severus turned away. "Isn't it?"

"_No_. You can't choose who you fall in love with, Severus. I love James and he loves me. End of story. Anyway, we can still meet up and so on."

"We can? I won't be welcome at the wedding."

"But I want you there! You're my _friend_! My _best friend_. I'll _make_ James invite you."

"Don't bother. Even if _he_ doesn't do anything, Black will. Those two are inseparable."

"Severus, don't be like this."

"Like what?" He whirled round to face her, obsidian eyes blazing with pure rage. "Just who the hell do you think you are, Lily Evans? You're just like all the other Gryffindors – shallow, two-faced, hypocritical, arrogant –"

"Stop it!" Lily grabbed his wrists, emerald eyes pleading.

"Get off me!" Severus tore his arms from her grasp, unshed tears glistening in his eyes. "I don't need this. I suppose I'll see you around." He stalked out of the room, not looking back. He hadn't even rounded the corner when he collapsed to the floor, crying his heart out.

Inside the Charms classroom, Lily was also crying, though hers were tears of frustration and anger.

Snape turned to Harry and Hermione. "We only spoke once after that, on the night before we left for good." He set the dial and activated it once again. They were outside, by the lake. Lily was approaching Severus, who was alone on a rock, gazing out across the water. "Hi," she said nervously.

Severus didn't turn round. "What do you want?" he demanded harshly.

"I don't want to leave with things the way they are between us," said Lily softly. She sat down beside him but he moved away. "I want to clear things up."

"You already made it clear," Severus retorted. "_Crystal_ clear. You're going to marry Potter and have loads of little Potters. Everyone's going to love you both. I'll be shunned and hated whatever I do, and I'll probably die before I reach twenty-five." His voice was devoid of any emotion.

"_Severus_…"

"_Don't_, Lily," he ordered harshly. "Just _don't_."

"So what are you going to do? James, Sirius and I are all going to train as Aurors."

Severus shrugged. "Potions research of some sort. Probably medical."

"Sounds interesting."

He stood. "Goodbye, Lily. Don't bother staying in touch." He turned and strode up to the castle, never looking back at Lily, who gazed after him, hurt and confused.

Snape turned to the two teenagers. "Now you know why I loathe February 14th so much. Valentine's Day was the day I decided to follow Lucius. To become a Death Eater. Lily was 'just another Mudblood' to me after that. I didn't care about anything or anyone, including myself. I'd cut about fifty times each night. I was a permanent insomniac. I don't really remember much about the next two years. I learned that Lily had had a baby – you, Harry – through the Announcements section of the _Prophet_. I made another suicide attempt when I was nineteen but the St. Mungo's staff couldn't be bothered to help me because of my record. I murdered Muggles and Mudbloods – sorry, Hermione – without a second thought, simply because I just didn't care. Lily destroyed me. I still love her for helping me so much – she and Potter only went into hiding under the Fidelius Charm because of information I gave to Dumbledore – but I hate her for seventh year. She'd abandoned me for James Potter. That was how it felt. Still does, if I'm honest."

"But you were redeemed," said Hermione softly.

Snape shrugged. "Maybe. But I'm still a murderer and always will be. I'm still self-harming. I'm still an insomniac, which is why I prowl the halls at night. I'm still bitter, and cynical, and jaded. I still hate myself. I still have suicidal tendencies. I still don't look after myself properly." He placed the dial chain around their necks, took their hands and murmured a spell Hermione knew would take them back to their normal time.

Hermione sat down on the floor and Harry leaned against her bed, polishing his glasses. "I'm sorry, Professor," he said quietly.

Snape shrugged, blinking back tears. "What's there to be sorry for? _You_ didn't do any of that."

Hermione gave him a tissue. "I'm sorry it happened. Anyway, you couldn't expect her to be perfect," she reasoned.

"It was the _way_ she delivered the news," explained Snape. "All sudden and abrupt, like I was supposed to jump for joy at the news that my best friend – my _only_ friend – was engaged to one of the boys that had bullied me so badly throughout my seven years at school. That was why I felt so betrayed. I'd trusted her with _everything;_ how could I be sure she wasn't going to tell Potter? I don't trust people."

"You're trusting us," Hermione pointed out, "and you must trust Dumbledore."

"Not much. And as for you two – you'd already discovered my biggest, darkest secrets without me knowing. There wasn't really any point keeping silent because you knew it all anyway."

"You can trust us," said Hermione earnestly.

"I'm not having Weasley knowing."

"We won't tell him, will we, Harry?"

"No. Definitely not."

Snape gave them a small smile. "You know, Remus Lupin's going to be teaching again in September. Keep it quiet, though. He doesn't want the whole school to know just yet, and if you tell someone like Finnigan, the whole _school_ will know by this time tomorrow. It's the least I owe him. I forced him to resign, leaving the way open for Crouch to come sauntering in."

"He'd've got in anyway," Hermione disagreed. 

"Do you blame yourself for Voldemort's return, Potter?" Snape asked softly.

"Kind of," Harry admitted.

"Don't. Because it's _my_ fault. I got Lupin to resign, even though he personally did very little to me. If he hadn't gone, Voldemort wouldn't have come back."

"And what about Wormtail?" demanded Hermione sharply. "Apparate into the Forbidden Forest or Hogsmeade, transform into his rat shape, sneak into Hogwarts, tamper with the Triwizard Cup and there you have it. Not your fault at all, Professor."

"Perhaps, Miss Granger."

"Professor?"

"Yes, Potter?"

Harry took a deep breath. "Thankyou. For showing us everything. It – it must have been really hard for you."

"It was."

"We do appreciate it. Thankyou."

"You're welcome."

"Please look after yourself," Hermione pleaded.

Snape sighed heavily, sadly. "I can't make promises I don't think I'll keep. But thankyou anyway. I'll see you at school." With that, he Disapparated with a faint 'pop'.

"I don't hate him anymore," Harry confessed.

"Neither do I," said Hermione. "I want to help him if I can."

"Me too," agreed Harry. "Shall – shall we leave the box for another day?"

"Yes, let's. I think Mum and Dad are ready to continue Monopoly from where we left off last night."

THE END

****************************************************************


End file.
